This past week has included a run of rehearsals for the performance of the tableaux. The twins and I have been part of it every year since my mother died in 2006. Singing Mary Did You Know? and a sleeping baby in a fleece lined manger were good smoke screens for the tears that would not stop that winter. Although my mother had lived eight decades and as she said at the end "knew more people in heaven than she did here" it was still more painful to lose her than I expected. 

I am always a singing shepherd, and the twins usually are but have been drafted as angels a few times. As part of the host they were allowed to run up the aisle in the cathedral which is a rare treat, and one that might get out of hand if any angels were boys, but for some reason they are always girls. 

There are a handful of children younger than them who are wearing the very costumes I sewed for my daughters when they were five and six and seven. One of them garbs a little red headed girl whose father makes a splendid shepherd. He already has a beard and his voice would make any flock feel safe. Hope and Aurelle have outgrown those garments and it warms my heart to remember them little enough to hold a stuffed lamb as if it may turn real. 

Many of the people in the tableaux are regulars like us. For two weeks we see each other often and for a marathon eight hours on Sunday. It is part of our experience of Christmas. 

I have sensed the Herodian feelings that creep in when we are supposed to be joyful. Jealousy about someone else's lifestyle, or marriage, or apparent lack of problems whispers in my ears like the deceptive inquiry Herod gave to the wise men. "Bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also."* A few years ago a friend was showing photos of her cherubic grandchildren. I don't have any. Another was mentioning their plans for an upcoming trip to a place where bathing suits come in handy. Our holiday itinerary includes the movies and the grocery store. Another woman's husband fixes more things around the house than mine does. Baa humbug.

But prayer and gratitude can serve as antidotes to envy, and this year I noticed the absence of some of those barbed tendencies. They no longer fit, because I have outgrown them. 

The wise men were wise in part because they decided not to follow Herod's directive. 

That gift is within my grasp. 

* Matthew 2